Another dead-end street...

He looks out into the water and up deep into the stars. He begs the sparkling lanterns of light to cure him of himself - his past and the kaleidoscope of mistakes, failures and wrong turns that have stacked unbearable regret upon his shoulders. Failures plagued him. Things he had omitted or ignored, neglected. What he should have given and hadn't. He felt the biting pang of every unfulfillment. And there are different ways to fail for sure. Imperfection is inevitable. That's life. His dream broke, and he's been picking up shattered pieces, and blaming himself while his hands bleed.